


Too little, too late.

by agonizingsingularity



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: AU, Alcohol, Androids, Angst, Death, Gen, father/son dynamics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-06
Updated: 2018-06-16
Packaged: 2019-05-18 21:36:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14860737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agonizingsingularity/pseuds/agonizingsingularity
Summary: AU where Connor was deviant-minded and close to Hank but didn't get time to deviate when confronting Markus at Jericho, and Hank never confronted Connor the night he took out Markus because he was too drunk.





	1. The Imposter

[ System booting up… ]

[ **_Performing diagnostic scan…_** ]

[ Audio components fully functional… Scan 12% complete… ]

[ Optical components fully functional… Scan 36% complete… ]

[ Temperature sensors fully functional… Scan 59% complete… ]

[ Biocomponents fully functional… Scan 97% complete… ]

[ **_Diagnostic scan complete._ Conclusion: all systems fully functional.** ]

RK900’s eyes opened slowly, then focused immediately.

He performed a quick scan of his surroundings. He found he was in a dimly-lit room [ the bulb hanging from the ceiling was connected to outdated wiring providing insufficient electricity to handle the amount of current it required ] a metal wall with a warehouse sliding door attached to it on his right and brick walls and ceiling with chipped dark grey paint, one of which had a dark pine door built into it.

Without turning his head to look, he could see that directly to his right were three large navy blue boxes [ storage containers for RK900 units ] one of which had already been opened. Two lifeless androids were standing wrapped in the protective foam staring out at the wall in shutdown mode, and there was a foam outline where he had been.

There was a police officer standing in front of him with a lab coat on, holding a digital tablet and looking bored.

[ _Requesting use of: Facial Recognition Software._ ]

[ Request: **Granted.** ]

[ Performing scan… ]

[ **Positively identified:** Charlotte Thompson. Born: 03/07/2005. Employed at Detroit Police Department, Forensics Technology Unit. Criminal record: none. ]

4.7 seconds had passed since being activated.

“Can you hear me?” Officer Thompson asked. RK900 moved his eyes to meet her gaze.

“Yes.”

“State your identification code and diagnostics results.”

“Model RK900, identification number 413 249 318 -80. All systems fully operational. Designation: no current designation.”

The officer pressed some buttons on her tablet and kept talking without looking up.

“Alright, everything seems to be working fine. Enter new designation, access code 591384.”

“Access confirmed. Awaiting new designation.”

“Designation: Caleb.” She spoke while looking up briefly and enunciating her words very clearly.

“Designation: Caleb, confirmed. Awaiting further instructions.”

The officer clicked her tongue once [ _A sign of boredom? ]_  before opening her mouth to speak again.

 “Just head out to the main office and talk to Fowler, it’s not my business who you get assigned to.”

RK900 did as he was instructed and was standing in between the desks in the middle of the room trying to locate Captain Fowler when he was interrupted by an older looking man with a beard and medium-length grey hair in well-worn looking clothes.

[ _Requesting use of: Facial Recognition Software._ ]

[ Request: **Granted.** ]

[ Performing scan… ]

[ **Positively identified:** Lieutenant Hank Anderson. Born: 09/06/1985. Employed at Detroit Police Department. Criminal record: None. ]

Before RK900 had time to react, Lt. Anderson had wrapped both arms around him and pulled him into a firm hug.

“Connor! I’m so glad to see you, buddy. I was worried after you disappeared yesterday that cyberlife had taken you away after all or that you’d been found and sent to one of those death camps. What the hell are you doing here?”

There was a slight drawl to the man’s words. RK900 analysed the Lieutenant’s breath and found that he had been drinking whiskey [ Jack Daniels Tennessee Fire brand, 35% alcohol content ] before arriving at the police station this morning, and quite likely the night before as well.

[ _Requesting information on: Lieutenant Hank Anderson and Connor._ ]

[ Request: **Granted.** ]

[ **Lieutenant Hank Anderson** was assigned an RK800 unit designated **Connor** to assist him with investigating all police cases involving deviant androids. ]

“Lieutenant, I can understand why you could be confus-“

RK900 was cut off before he could finish his sentence as Hank took a step back, a slightly puzzled look on his face as he reached out and pulled on the high-collared part of his black undershirt.

“And what the hell is this crap you’re wearing? Did they give you some kinda promotion that involved dressing you like an asshole?”

“Lieutenant. As you can see,” RK900 pointed to his model number and unit identification code printed on the cyberlife jacket he was wearing, “I am not the android you were assigned to work with. I can understand why you would be confused, as RK800 units were the prototype that my model was based on.”

Hank swallowed down his slack-jawed expression and something fervent started to burn in his eyes.

“But you got all his memories, right? That’s how this whole thing works?”

RK900 could sense the man’s stress levels rising dramatically and his social relations program kicked in to try and calm him down. He reached a hand out and laid it down on the man’s shoulder with a firm grip and smiled reassuringly.

“I’m sorry to inform you of this, Lieutenant Anderson, but I did not have any of his experiences uploaded to my memory banks, as the deviancy case was solved so it was no longer necessary for the RK800 unit to continue on. I can assure you, however, that I will do my very best to be an asset to you and the-“

RK900 was cut off again by Hank as he shrugged the android’s hand off his shoulder and stumbled backwards slightly, gaining some looks from various human officers around them and mumbling.

“Oh my god, they got him then, didn’t they? What happened to Connor?”

So far, any allusions to the RK800 unit being disposed of seemed to push the human further into a state of panic. RK900 decided that the truth would only spike the Lieutenant’s stress levels even more.

[ **WARNING!** Dangerously high norepinephrine, adrenaline and cortisol levels! Could result in heart attack, brain aneurism or stoke! ]

RK900’s protocol dictated to lie to him to placate him once again, and shift language usage to reflect more personally towards the retired unit.

“Connor is at the currently at the cyberlife facility in shutdown mode as he successfully completed his mission. I think it would be appropriate to-”

“ **FUCKING HELL!** ” The Lieutenant yelled before muttering quieter under his breath, “Goddamn Connor! Going off without me, getting himself in trouble and leaving me with some spitting image of him, asshole tin can.”

However, at the mention that the RK800 unit was not destroyed, Hank’s stress levels did decrease dramatically, though they still were not in the acceptable range for a human in Hank’s position.

Lt. Anderson grabbed his elbow and started to pull him towards outside.

“Excuse me, Lieutenant, but what are you doing?”

“Shut up, asshole. You’re coming with me.” He answered gruffly.

“But I have been instructed to-“

“Screw your instructions! You’ve got new instructions, okay? And they’re to follow me and shut the hell up!”

[ **ERROR:** Conflicting orders. ]

[ Selecting priority… ]

[ Lieutenant Anderson outranks Officer Thompson. ]

[ **New orders:** Follow Lieutenant Anderson. ]

“Yes, sir.”


	2. Mr. Anderson

RK900 bowed down awkwardly to sit himself in the passenger’s seat of the Lieutenant’s car. Hank was fumbling with his keys, muttering swearwords under his breath as he tried desperately to insert them into the car’s ignition despite the trembling of his hands.

[ _Scanning…_ ]

[ Stress levels at 78%. Blood Alcohol Content 0.057%. Currently too unstable and intoxicated to operate any vehicles or machinery. ]

[ **RECOMMENDED COURSE OF ACTION: INTERVENE.** ]

RK900 stayed silent for a few moments before reaching over and holding Hank’s hand with his thumb and forefinger, applying just enough pressure to make him drop his keys into the android’s other waiting hand, which he quickly pulled away before Lt. Anderson had time to react.

“ _Ow!_ What the fuck did you do that for, asshole?” Hank yelled none too politely.

RK900 was silent and straight-faced as he exited his side of the vehicle, moved to the other side of the car proceeded to open Hank’s door and look him dead in the eyes, a small forced smile gracing his features for a very limited amount of time before he answered.

“It is not recommended for you to be driving in your current state.”

“Fuck you!” The man’s words were indignant and half-slurred. “Give me back my goddamn keys!”

RK900 ran through a multitude of different scenarios in his head and 0.3% came back positive if he were to attempt to persuade the Lieutenant to change his mind.

[ _Selecting course of action: use force._ ]

The android grabbed the older man by his shoulders and lifted him easily out of the car, startling the Lieutenant and calling him to yell again.

“Hey! This is my fuckin’ car, y’know!”  

Surely he had known the only reason he had been able to pull the android along earlier was because RK900 was allowing him to? No matter. Something akin to the human emotion of ‘amusement’ fluttered along the surface of his processing unit. He ran a systems check as he deposited the police detective in the passenger seat of the car. He seemed to have resigned himself to the situation begrudgingly.

[ **SYSTEM: STABLE. NO SIGNS OF DEVIANCY DETECTED.** ]

Caleb made sure that they both had their seat belts on before starting the car and pulling out of the carpark, driving them to their next destination.

 

* * *

 

 

The human’s stress levels dropped dramatically once they started driving, however they peaked again once he realized where the android had driven them. His house. His expression turned to anger as he shoved RK900 in the arm.

“The hell are we doing here?! We’re supposed to be going to get Connor, you moron!”

If the Lieutenant’s words were meant to sting, they did not have the desired effect on the robot. RK900 turned off the car’s engine.

“I felt it would be best for you to rest right now. We can visit the cyberlife centre tomorrow.” He tried his best to sound reassuring, but the older man’s eyes quickly boiled over with rage.

“I don’t need a nap, a time-out or a fuckin’ babysitter. What I _need_ ,” he stressed the word through clenched teeth, “is to go rescue Connor from those cyberlife cunts!”

RK900 took a deep breath into his artificial lungs to simulate the human behaviour of internally deliberating a difficult decision. Really, he had already pre-determined the best course of action moments ago.

“Lieutenant, I know you have been going there repeatedly for a while now in an intoxicated state to try and see,” he selected his words as to best not inflame the Lieutenant’s rage again, “your old partner, with zero success. Do you think if you turn up as you are now, they will allow you access simply because I am accompanying you?”

Hank sighed as he took a moment to think about what the android was saying.

“So you’re saying I should sober up first, and then we can go?”

RK900 nodded curtly.

“Precisely, Lieutenant.”

Hank let out a deep groan as he leant back in his car-seat, rubbing his eyes.

[ **Probability of success: 97%.** ]

“Fine! But the second I’ve sobered up, we’re off and there’s no way you’re going to weasel your way out of it then, alright?”

“Of course, Lieutenant.”

Hank waved his hand in the air with a derisive look on his face.

“And cut it with the “Lieutenant” crap, would you? It’s bad enough you look like him, I don’t need you to sound like him too.” There was genuine anguish in the man’s voice, though he had tried to cover it with anger.

“The voice modulator I have is the same bio-component as my predeces-“

Hank cut him off with a pointed glare.

“You know what I meant.”

He didn’t, but he remained silent nonetheless.

RK900 unlocked the house with the keys attached to the metal loop he had used to lock the car upon exiting it. If hank noticed, he didn’t say anything.

As they entered the house, a very large Saint Bernard jumped up on him, his weight bringing the android down to the floor as the big dog started to slobber all over his face, wagging his tail violently as he did so. RK900 attempted to push him off gently, but his efforts were in vain.

The personal assault on his hygiene was abruptly stopped by Hank as he called the dog over to his side with a shrill whistle.

“That’s not Connor.” He stated to the dog gruffly.

RK900 stood back up, adjusted his suit jacket and sleeves, before turning around to secure the front door by locking it.

Hank shuffled into the kitchen and poured some kibble into his dog’s already overflowing stainless steel bowl, before pulling out a glass from an overhead cupboard and filling it with water.

Caleb stood at attention with his hands behind his back, using half his processing power to scan the environment around him as the other half kept his attention on Hank, who was watching him with disapproval.

“What, are you just gonna stand there?”

The android considered this carefully. He had done something wrong. He brought his hands to his sides and tried to relax his posture slightly, ready for any commands.

“What would you have me do, Mr. Anderson?”

Hank brought a hand to his temple and pinched it in frustration. He had done something wrong again. His system tried to calculate where he had made errors in his behaviour and speech while the Lieutenant kept talking.

“How long until I’m sober? Surely you’ve got some fancy in-built gizmo to figure that out, right?”

RK900’s face was blank as he answered.

“Approximately 8 hours, Mr. An-“

Hank brought his hand up as a gesture for the android to stop speaking.

“It’s Hank. How hard is it to just fucking call me Hank?” He asked, frustration evident in his tone of voice.

“Yes, sir. Understood, Hank.”

The lieutenant sighed before he took another sip of his water.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's all for now, folks! Hope it was okay. 
> 
> A bit of an FYI, this is set in a sort of muddled AU verse where the revolution failed, Connor succeeded in his mission and remained (mostly) a machine, but his relationship with Hank was close as if he were fully a deviant. Hope that makes sense to everybody!
> 
> Please let me know what you thought and what you would possibly like to see incorporated in future chapters.


End file.
